The sweet, buttery fruit he’d neglected for weeks had rotted. As I readied to leave, he placed it in my hand, saying, “You better eat this soon, before it’s far gone.”

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I dropped the spoiled fruit to the floor, hoping to observe an explosion of the rind’s facade, but its insides remained hidden and intact. Determined, I picked it up and poked my finger through its blackened, fragile skin and explored its insides for something worth saving before I walked out the door one last time. But the only solid thing left inside was a hollow pit.